Thursday, May 7, 2009

Forgiveness

Home from the annual trip to Houston, and what's the first thing I do? Take Kitsu to the vet for her yearly physical.

Tune the tail, rotate the legs, check the tuna levels. And, of course, indignity of indignities, take the temperature. After that the rabies shot was trivial.

Poor cat was terrified. Nobody will ever be able to convince me that cats don't remember things. Kitsu's never liked going to the vet, but it was more of a pain in the dainty derriere than anything else until last winter when she was so sick and had to be incarcerated for I.V. fluids and antibiotics for several days. She was shaking and wailing for most of the visit this time.

At least the vet, at long last, has a diagnoses as to what happened to both of the girls (Sachi had it too, though not as badly.)

Revenge-of-the-birditis.

Yep, that's the name for the syndrome. The vet had several more cases last winter after she'd treated the girls, some almost as bad. After extensive research and careful examination of common factors, it came down to getting hold of toxic birdies.

Kitsu was pronounced completely healthy today. She's even gained back all of the weight she'd lost last winter.

When the vet was done with her, Kitsu sat on the chair in the examination room and glared at us. No doubt at all in either the Doctor's mind or mine exactly what comments the cat was making about our ancestry and personal habits.

When I opened the door to her carrier, she slunk in, curling her tail protectively around her hindquarters. She moaned and cried all the way home.

One would expect that Kitsu would be angry at me for a long time after such a betrayal. How could a loving human subject her beloved cat to such torture? A grudge would be darn reasonable thing to carry.

I got home, opened the cat carrier and unlocked the cat door. Kitsu ran in and out a few times to make sure it was real, then attached herself to me.

For the last few hours, she's been VelcroKitty, snuggled as close to me as she can get, purring and nudging me if I stop patting her. (Making me feel all the more guilty for tormenting my furry friend.)

Forgiveness.

Humans could learn a lesson from this little cat.

1 comment:

bioephemera said...

I'm very grateful my cat hasn't held the vet against me - or the fact that we keep moving to progressively tinier apartments, or the fact that my boyfriend now takes virtually all of my time. She lets it go.